Poker Face
by Syrenia
Summary: ‹Threequel; Nolanverse; AU; Pairings Inside› Chelsie, the Joker and Jonathan/Scarecrow all find themselves in Arkham Asylum while in a twisted love triangle.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Poker Face

**Subject:** Batman

**Genres:** Drama/Romance

**Subgenres:** Action

**Front Summary:** ‹Threequel; Nolanverse; AU; Pairings Inside› Chelsie, the Joker and Jonathan/Scarecrow all find themselves in Arkham Asylum while in a twisted love triangle. Things can only become more complicated when their shared psychiatrist decides upon giving them group therapy together.

**Summary:** ‹Threequel; Nolanverse; AU; Pairings In Separate Section› Chelsie, the Joker and Jonathan/Scarecrow all find themselves in Arkham Asylum while in a twisted love triangle. Things can only become more complicated when their shared psychiatrist decides upon giving them group therapy together. For even _more_ of a complication, said psychiatrist happens to be falling hard for the Clown Prince of Crime. What will become of the four in this continuation of _As The Crow Flies_ and _Queen Takes Pawn_?

* * *

**Pairings:**

**SPOILERS BELOW**

One-sided JokerxChelsie/Crow(OC)

One-sided Jonathan/ScarecrowxChelsie/Crow(OC)

One-sided JokerxHarleen/Harley Quinn

**Joker Version Epilogue** includes JokerxChelsie/Crow(OC).

**Scarecrow Version Epilogue** includes Jonathan/ScarecrowxChelsie/Crow(OC) and minor JokerxHarleen/Harley Quinn

**/END SPOILERS**

(**Note:** That's as clear as I can make the pairings without becoming overly complicated with specifics.)

* * *

**Notes:** This story is a continuation of _As The Crow Flies_ and _Queen Takes Pawn_. To understand this particular fic, you ought to read the first and second ones. It helps for you to understand who Chelsie and Crow (OCs) are.

**SPOILERS BELOW**

Also, in this particular fic, Harleen/Harley's orgin story is changed just a little from the version where she sleeps her way into getting an internship as a psychologist at Arkham and meets the Joker, falling for him.

The main change is that she also takes on the cases of Jonathan/Scarecrow and Chelsie/Crow, finding them involed in a love triangle of twisted proportions with the Joker, thus ushering them into group therapy.

Also note that the part of Harley's origin where she met Jack before he became the Joker is _not_ present in this AU. In this particular fic, it did _not_ happen.

**/END SPOILERS**

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Batman is owned by DC Comics and whoever else owns it. I in no way claim it as my own; I'm just borrowing. Any OCs are mine and the plot is also mine.

* * *

**A/N:** This is where Author's Notes will go from now on.

And welcome back to the fun! :D

One thing I gotta mention: I had to give Arkham some kind of schedule. The only experience I could base my schedule on was my time in a juvenile psychiatric ward.

(_Yes_, I went to a psych ward. No, it was _not_ fun. Yes, I _am_ crazy. Yes, I _did_ see a straitjacket. If you have any _other_ questions about that either pm me or review with them. I seriously get questions about it when I mention it.)

My time there was pretty full, so I decided I would utilize every minute of the day in Arkham to the fullest extent. If it's nothing like an asylum schedule, your complaints will fall on deaf ears. I've never been in an asylum (yet!), so you can't expect me to know what it's really like. Just deal with my interpretation.

Although Harleen explains the schedule in the prologue, I decided to make it _easier_ on you and write it up in a better format in the A/N. In it, Crow's therapy sessions are inserted.

I just want you to know that I actually put some _thought_ into the schedule.

And yes, some of it is based on what I remember of the schedule during my psych ward stint.

Here it is:

Six AM - Wake Up; Breakfast

Seven AM - Return to Cells

Eight AM - Mandatory Shower

Eight-thirty AM - End Mandatory Shower; Return to Cells

Eight-thirty-five AM - Crow's Group Therapy

Nine-thirty AM - End Crow's Group Therapy

Ten AM - Outside Time

Eleven-thirty AM - Return to Cells

Twelve PM - Lunch

One PM - Return to Cells

Two PM - Outside or Rec. Room Time or One-on-One Therapy

Three-thirty PM - Return to Cells

Four PM - Optional Shower

Four-thirty PM - End Optional Shower; Return to Cells

Six PM - Dinner

Seven PM - Return to Cells

Eight PM - Rec. Room Time

Nine-thirty PM - Return to Cells

Ten PM - Lights Out

/end

A cram-packed schedule, if you ask me.

One more thing: To see a Gaia Online avatar version of Chelsie in her Arkham uniform, copy-paste the following into your browser:

http://i32 dot tinypic dot com/2u6ffc9 dot png

Now, replace the "dot" parts with "." (without the quotation marks) and eliminate the spaces between.

If you're too stupid to figure that out, go to my profile. I'll put up a link after I post this.

And now that you've done that and know the schedule (and knowing is half the battle. G.I. Joe! Oops, wrong fandom.), you can continue to the prologue.

Tally-ho!

* * *

**Poker Face**

_**by Syrenia**_

* * *

**Prologue - Fun Times**

* * *

_I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas Plays  
Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it)  
LoveGame, intuition, play the cards with spades to start  
And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart_

_I wanna roll with him; a hard pair we will be  
A little gamblin' is fun when you're with me (I love it)  
Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun  
And, baby, when it's love, if its not rough, it isn't fun, fun hard pair we will be_

_I won't tell you that I love you  
Kiss or hug you 'cause I'm bluffin'  
With my muffin: I'm not lying,  
I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue-gunning  
Just like a chick in the casino  
Take your bank before I pay you out  
I promise this, promise this  
Check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous_

_Can't read my, can't read my  
No, he can't read my poker face  
(She's got me like nobody)  
Can't read my, can't read my  
No, he can't read my poker face  
(She's got me like nobody)_

~ Lady GaGa - Poker Face

* * *

Not even a day in and Chelsie/Crow was now wearing a pale blue Arkham jumpsuit.

Of course, by day one, Crow had improvised the top a little by ripping the neck low with a long nail to show off her white undershirt that barely covered her large chest. She had then pulled the bottom up and tied the ends into a tight knot, showing off some of her midriff.

With those changes made, she felt more comfortable.

And, _obviously_, the uniform bore the usual label of "Arkham Asylum" in black on the top on her right, her newly assigned number on the left and in black as well. Her number happened to be 913, two of her lucky numbers together - 9 and 13 - to her great amusement.

When she had been sent to her cell, it was fortuitous that both the Clown and Jonathan/Scarecrow had been absent from the hall. Of course, Chelsie/Crow didn't know the reason, but it was due to Harleen pulling them out for the group therapy she'd instigated between them.

This left the bird girl to get situated in her cell and to fix her new wardrobe before she would have to face her would-be-lovers once again.

Crow's cell, where she now sat on her bed with legs crossed and hands to the mattress, was _small_, a bed to the back of it that was smaller still and rather hard with only one pillow.

The singular pillow was the _first_ thing that irked her. She needed _two_ pillows to sleep well, but knew only good behavior in following days might grant her a second, so she resolved to behave for the most part in hopes of receiving another pillow.

The door to her cell was plexiglass, she realized, and she could see through it. It must have been a new renovation to the place as earlier stories she'd heard of Arkham had noted the doors as steel. (At least she knew the door could be opened both mechanically or by special keys - a useful tidbit of information.)

This was the _second_ thing to irk her. A cell with a see-through door granted no privacy whatsoever from those who passed by, even as the cells were situated so patients could not look in on one another. This only earned her hatred because she was a woman who obviously desired sexual activity and would not deem servicing herself as too desperate. She saw nothing wrong with masturbation.

Thirdly, she noticed her room was blindingly white. It was the kind of white that shined in the light and tried to burn holes in your retinas. It actually reminded her of hospitals, which she consequently hated with a burning passion.

This was the _third_ thing to irk the bird girl. She had nothing against white, really, as long as it came in small, not-so-blinding doses.

Currently, while reviewing these flaws in her mind, she wore a deep scowl.

Even as she did, her face twitched where her beak would normally reside. That, _of course_, had been confiscated along with the _rest_ of her lovely, unique costume. And that was the _fourth_ thing that irked the blackbird, also being the thing that irked her _most of all_.

'_Arkham sure __**sucks**__, sweetheart,_' the bird girl noted to her host, eyes shifting over their deplorable new conditions.

'_No one said it would be a five-star __**resort**__, Crow,_' returned Chelsie, inwardly crossing her arms and shaking her head.

Crow smirked at Chelsie's retort, then drawled within, '_What'll we say to our two favorite villainous boys when we __**see**__ them, hm? I suspect they'll be __**thrilled**__ to see us!_'

'_They'll probably think we're awesomely lame at villainy to have already been __**caught**__,_' Chelsie told her, laughing at the thought.

Crow cackled aloud, then answered inwardly, '_**True**__, sweetheart; we'd best explain that we __**wanted**__ to be caught. We can regale them with the story of how we walked into Arkham, unnoticed and unannounced, and entered the employee lounge like it was __**nothin'**__._'

'_Fun times,_' muttered the host, rolling her eyes at Crow's antics.

* * *

The next event in the lives of Arkham's prisoners was to be the morning "outside time."

Chelsie/Crow had come to the asylum after breakfast, but before lunch, near nine o'clock in the morning. At the moment, it was ten o'clock in the AM.

Crow knew Jonny boy and his Scarecrow along with the Joker had returned to their cells only because the Clown occasionally cackled at nothing in his unmistakable, unnerving laugh.

They hadn't passed her cell, however, for which she was thankful. That _also_ meant they had cells to her right near the front of the cell row as she had a room almost in the middle.

At the present time, inmates were filed up along the hall, all being led to the outside courtyard, but Crow remained in her cell.

After the other patients had left, both a big, burly guard with brown hair and green eyes and a little blonde woman with blue eyes appeared before Crow's plexiglass door.

"_Hello_, Miss Chelsie Crow," the blonde greeted from behind the door with a friendly smile lighting up her features. "My name is Harleen Quinzel. I'm going to be your psychiatrist."

Crow grinned, "It's not _Chels_ right now, honey bunny. The name's Crow - _just_ Crow."

The woman smiled wider, "Very well then, Crow. I'm sure I'll _soon_ come to know you apart from your other persona, but for _now_, please forgive any mistakes."

The brunette crossed her arms, replying, "Sure thing, sweetie."

"Well, Crow," began the psychiatrist who checked her no doubt _expensive_ watch before returning her blue eyes to Arkham's newest inmate, "it's still early into outside time."

She then questioned, "I'm sure you'd like to make your presence known to your... _friends_, so, would you like to join the others?"

"Ah, sure thing, sugarcube," answered Crow who stood from her seat on her bed. "But before I _go_, I'd like to know a few li'l things... Think you can answer me some _questions_, Doc?"

"Well, I will try to the best of my ability," the other woman replied, watching Crow expectantly.

Crow's hands fell to her hips, "First of all, how many _female_ inmates does Arkham boast?"

"Oh, well, currently there are none save _yourself_, Crow," answered the blonde with a small smile before making a little joke. "It appears that mental illness predominantly runs amongst the _male_ of the species in Gotham."

Crow laughed lightly at the joke, finding the news rather odd.

"I see. I see," the brunette then returned, clicking her tongue. "Second question, how many inmates does this place currently hold?"

Harleen looked over to the guard with her, "Would you happen to know the answer to that, Stevens?"

Stevens gave a nod, then looked to the bird girl, "Arkham's not so _big_ these days what with rehabilitations. We used to have upward of two hundred inmates, but nows we boast about _half_ as many. I'd say Arkham holds a little over one hundred patients in her walls."

"Thank you, sugar puff," the blackbird thanked him, to which he gave a small nod.

The brunette looked back to Harleen, "Third question, how does the _schedule_ work around this joint?"

Quinzel smiled, answering easily and at length, "Mornings begin at six o'clock sharp at which time all patients are moved into the cafeteria for breakfast. Breakfast, as _all_ mealtimes, lasts one hour. At ten o'clock in the morning, there's "outside time" from that point until eleven-thirty when patients are returned to their cells."

"Twelve noon is lunch time, lasting until one o'clock at which time patients return to their cells. At two o'clock, there's a choice of "outside time" or rec. room time until three-thirty on the dot when patients return to their cells," the little psychiatrist rambled on. "At six o'clock, dinner is served until seven o'clock when patients return to their cells once _again_."

Crow sighed inwardly, thinking her schedule would be oddly _full_ for an insane inmate of Arkham.

"At eight o'clock, there's rec. room time until nine-thirty," continued the blonde, coming fast to her conclusion, "at which time patients return to their cells, and then it's "lights out" at ten o'clock on the dot."

The blackbird nodded, then questioned once more, "Fourth question, when do I get to _bathe_ around this place? I like good hygiene, honey bunny."

"Well, Arkham _does_ have a women's section for showers," Harleen replied thoughtfully. "You'll most likely be offered a shower twice a day, once being mandatory. The mandatory shower is in the morning at eight o'clock and lasting until eight-thirty."

"Thirty minutes for _showers_?" asked the bird incredulously. "Arkham sure is _generous_."

The guard and psychiatrist shared a laugh before Harleen continued, "The second, optional time to shower is four o'clock in the afternoon and lasts until four-thirty."

Crow nodded, "That's a pretty full _schedule_, sugarcube. When do I find time for _therapy_?"

"You'll attend group therapy in the mornings from eight-thirty-five to nine-thirty," answered the blonde. "On certain days, instead of outside or rec. room time at two PM, you'll be taken to a one-on-one therapy session with _me_, Crow. That would be every other day starting _tomorrow_. And _after_, you would return to your cell at three-thirty."

Harleen paused a moment with another of her smiles, then asked, "Any more questions, Crow?"

Crow grinned, "Just _one more_, sugarcube. Who happens to be the _Joker's_ psychiatrist and who happens to be _Jonathan Crane's_ psychiatrist?"

"Normally, we do not release that information," began Quinzel in her professional manner, "but I am privy to the knowledge that you are acquainted with _both_ men as, you see, _I_ happen to be their psychiatrist."

The bird girl inwardly celebrated; it would be so easy now to keep up with the two.

When the blackbird didn't reply, Harleen added, "I happen to see the two in joint sessions as _you_, Crow, seem to be a uniting factor between them... You happen to be spoken of quite _often_, you see, so I intend to eventually ease you into those sessions."

"Group therapy, then, huh?" asked the brunette bird with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes," replied the little psychiatrist, smiling at her newest patient like she'd won the lotto.

Crow returned a smile with the same brilliance, thinking she'd pretty much hit the jackpot as well.

"Well, I'm ready to _go_ now, shug, if that's hunky-dory with _you_, Doc," Crow said, clapping her hands together.

The bird girl was ready to face whatever would greet her between the two villainous boys.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Batman is owned by DC Comics and whoever else owns it. I in no way claim it as my own; I'm just borrowing. Any OCs are mine and the plot is also mine.

* * *

**A/N:** The song is Diana Krall's _Bye Bye Blackbird_. I in no way claim it as my own.

And now the reunion! *tears of joy* R&R whether you like or hate it. Feedback is always appreciated.

By the way, I forgot to mention it in the prologue, but you are to assume the Arkham schedule was revised at some point after _Chapter Two_ of _Queen Takes Pawn_. This is to justify the scene where Jonathan/Scarecrow saw the video by Crow and the Joker at around 10:30 PM.

I had decided that, along with renovations mentioned like the new plexiglass doors, the schedule needed revision as well.

I'm just giving you a head's up here, but it will also be justified within the story in later chapters.

Now you may continue onward to the chapter.

* * *

**Poker Face**

_**by Syrenia**_

* * *

**Chapter One - Greetin's, Fellas!**

* * *

Crow now stood outside her cell in front of Harleen, the blonde therapist, and the guard, Stevens.

"Stevens, will you please escort Crow to the courtyard?" asked Quinzel, looking up at the taller man imploringly.

"Yes, ma'am," answered the muscled man rather obediently.

And so, he escorted the bird girl all the way to the outside courtyard and left her there, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Crow looked around the courtyard; Arkham really _was_ a fantastically big place as they fit an entire outdoor track with bleachers in the middle. (_Bleachers_? _Really_? Aren't some of these patients _suicidal_? Oh, well.)

To the side, there was a basketball court where a few patients who wore forest green and ugly orange jumpsuits were shooting hoops.

The bird girl's _first_ thought was that they must be patients that were better off mentally than the others. They at least exhibited knowledge of the sport, that is, so they had to have more coherent thought processes.

Of course, she realized, insanity didn't always make one entirely _stupid_. Jonny and his Scarecrow along with the Joker were both proof to that notation.

Crow _also_ reasoned to herself that the patients must be color-coded by security level. _Obviously_, that meant high-security patients wore pale blue like herself. And, more obvious _yet_, that meant her two "_friends_" would be sporting ill-fitting, pale blue jumpsuits.

'_I may be a __**nutter**__, but I have __**deductive reasonin' skills**__!_' noted the bird cheerfully.

Without further delay, she clasped her hands behind her back and took to walking.

She noticed that one side of the wall at the back past the basketball court gave way to a tall fence with barbed, curved wire at the top, rocks lying past it near waves of a body of water. Beyond it, you could see a nice view of Gotham.

Subconsciously, her feet started to take her to that fence, all thought of finding her compatriots lost in her stormy gaze toward Gotham.

Eventually, she made it to the fence, hands soon grasping the silver wire as she stared at the city.

"Nice view, ain't it?" a voice suddenly asked.

Crow turned only to find a familiar thug in a forest green jumpsuit.

She grinned at Jimmy Hallows.

"_Jimmy_! Fancy meetin' _you_ here!" the bird announced happily.

"Yeah, fancy _dat_... seein' as ya left me t' da _coppas_," Hallows returned bitterly as he puffed on his cigarette.

Crow's lips twitched in a smirk that she at least _attempted_ to hide.

Jimmy lost his agitated look and laughed, "Can't stay _mad_ at ya, pretty, bitty bird girl."

He walked up to her side and gazed out at Gotham as she turned to watch the city as well.

"Sos did ya fin' da Bat an' get 'is _identity_, then?" he had to ask, curious to know if she accomplished her goal.

Crow glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, before she replied, "I surely _did_, Jimmy-kins! I have the proof hidden away safely. But what I'll _do_ with the name, I haven't quite concluded yet."

"Woteva ya _do_, try not t' give it t' da Clown," Jimmy advised, gaze shifting to her. "Da Clown only wants chaos an' anarchy; 'e wants Got'am t' _burn_."

She looked over to him, returning his gaze, "And what's wrong with _that_, Mr. Hallows?"

"If 'e rules Gotham, it'll die off like a mot' t' da flame," he reasoned, having thought all this over carefully during his time in Arkham. "A gal like yaself couldn't rule ova da city if 'e _destroys_ it like ev'rythin' _else_ 'e touches."

Crow looked back to the city, reasoning within that he had a point. But what she would _do_ with the name was more out of her hands than he _realized_. What she would _do_ depended on whose _side_ she placed herself, meaning which villain she _loved_. And if _neither_, she would take the name for herself and use it for her _own_ gain.

"I'll keep that in _mind_, babydoll," Crow finally responded, then gazed over to the ex-thug. "_Now_, could you tell me where I might find the Clown and Jonny-kins?"

Hallows sighed, "Crazy Crane 'ides 'imself unda da bleachas, an' da Clown us'ally 'ounds 'im."

"Muchas gracias, mi amigo," the bird girl thanked him, throwing a two-finger salute before turning on her heel and walking off.

He watched her leave, tapping the ash from his cigarette and sneaking a glance at her ass as she went.

"Thin's are gettin' _in'erestin'_," he muttered, smiling as he put his cigarette between his lips and turned back to the view of Gotham.

* * *

Crow had already seen the back of one of the bleachers, so she took off to the other, peeking around slowly from one end only to see her two villains on the other side.

For the first time, she caught a glimpse of the Clown Prince without his customary war paint, her eyebrow quirking.

The Clown didn't look all that _bad_ without his painted face, the scar she could see on one cheek now more prominent and actually a bit more disturbing now that the extent of it could be seen.

Pushing those findings aside, she paid attention to what they were _doing_ for a moment.

Crane was silently observing the Clown with disdain in his icy gaze as the Joker animatedly talked his ear off about something or another, neither of the pair noticing her.

Snickering, she slinked back to the front of the bleachers, then walked off to the other end.

'_Now comes the __**entrance**__, sweetheart,_' Crow spoke inwardly, taking a deep breath and exhaling before beginning her short trek.

She walked confidently, step by step, to the back of the bleachers, grabbing the supporting metal bar at the end and spinning to face the pair.

Both had noticed her entrance and now looked up at her in bewildered manners.

She tilted her head and they stared.

"Well, if no one's gonna _say_ anthin', I'll just go back to _Jimmy_," she announced, letting go of the support beam and crossing her arms.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Crane finally managed to ask the question on both villains' minds.

"Well, you both got _caught_, so I snuck into the asylum durin' the day like a li'l _ninja_," she explained, making a walking motion with two fingers before upturning the hand and holding up her index finger, "and I walked _right_ into the employee lounge and asked where I had to sign up for treatment."

After that, she crossed her arms once more with a giggle.

"It was _priceless_," she concluded with a satisfied look.

"No one just _walks_ into my asylum," the ex-doctor said incredulously, looking her up and down disbelievingly.

She frowned down at him, retorting with attitude, "Should you _like_, I can go back out and do it _again_."

Finally, the Clown laughed, hopping up from his ground seat.

"The view has def-_in_-ite-ly gotten better!" he announced, walking up to the bird girl.

Crow deadpanned, "That's 'cause I'm the only girl in Arkham."

The Joker just laughed in reply before throwing an arm around her shoulders.

From his seat on the grass, Crane stood as well, moving in front of her. He looked at the Clown's actions with annoyance a moment before returning his icy blue gaze to her.

"So you've finally come to aid Scarecrow and I in escaping," he concluded of her appearance in the asylum.

Her mouth opened to reply, but the Clown cut in, grabbing their attention, "No... No, no, _no_. I thin-_k_ _my_ bird girl came for _me_, Do-_c_."

Both looked to Crow expectantly, each expecting that _they_ were the reason for her stay in Arkham.

Inwardly, she grinned like a Chesire cat; she had to keep the two men at arm's length for the time being, so she couldn't answer favorably for _either_. Obviously, she needed time to decide between the two, so she would lead them on carefully without giving in to either.

"I had nothin' _else_ to do; that's all," she assured the pair, shrugging off the Clown's arm and beginning to stroll away.

The two followed at her heels until they were to each side of her, the brunette looking to both briefly. She had thought not responding favorably might piss them off and make them stay away, but she was apparently _wrong_ - a thing which did not happen often.

"So you snuck into Arkham under the pretense that you had nothing _better_ to do?" asked Jonathan, tone once again incredulous.

"Ahh, _yep_. That's about _it_, teddy bear," she replied with a shrug. "I deliberated a _week_ before decidin' I had nothin' better to do than slip into Arkham. And I've got nothin' better to do _now_ 'till one of you _escapes_."

She laughed a minute, adding, "And my rent's paid for two years in advance, so my place ain't goin' _nowhere_ for a while. _Plus_, I met my goals out there; I did what I intended to do."

"Goalsss?" questioned the Joker with interest.

"Yep; _goals_. Simple li'l goals," she replied.

She turned her head, pointing toward and looking at the Clown Prince, "Thanks to _you_, I tased li'l Miss Rachel Dawes in the face before she _died_."

Turning her head again, her gaze fell on Jonathan to whom she pointed, "And thanks to _you_, I was released outta _Chels_."

Head front and center, she pointed to herself and grinned, "And thanks to _me_, I found the thing I was lookin' for since the _beginnin'_."

"Which was?" prompted the ex-doctor.

"You're not privy to that information, buttercup," she denied him, then skipped over to the fence beyond which she could see Gotham.

She sing-songed as she put her thumb over Wayne Tower, "I've got somethin' _ev_erybody wants. They just don't know they _do_!"

Speaking normally, glancing at both supervillains, her hand fell, "And when I fly solo later on... I'll use what I got to turn the game upside-down. Heehee!"

Subconsciously, Crow began to hum Diana Krall's Bye Bye Blackbird yet again.

This time, however, one of them _noticed_.

"Bye Bye Blackbird?" asked Jonathan as he looked over her shoulder, seeing her resulting grin.

"So you know my song, _huh_?" she inquired, smirking.

"Your son-_g_?" questioned the Clown with a contemplative look.

"Yeah, _my_ song, shug," Crow replied happily, humming the opening to her song.

In her scratchy-soft voice, she then began to sing, "Pack up all my care and woe... Here I go... singin' _low_... Bye bye... blackbird. ...Where somebody _waits_ for me. Sugar's sweet and so is _he_... Bye bye, blackbird."

"No one here can love... or _understand_ me," she cooed, leaning against the fence. "_Oh_, what hard luck stories... they all _hand_ me."

"Make my bed and light the light... I'll arrive late tonight... Blackbird, bye bye," she sang, then hummed the tune between words, the two villains watching the little bird girl as her gaze remained on Gotham.

"No one here can love... or _understand_ me," crooned the blackbird. "_Oh_, what hard luck stories... they all _hand_ me."

"Make my bed and light the light... I'll arrive late tonight. Blackbird... Blackbird... Blackbird, bye bye," she finished off, then pulled away from the fence.

Humming her song, she took off, skipping along over to the previous bleacher before making her ascent, the two left behind following at a slower pace.

Once she stood at the top, she gazed around the courtyard, surveying what would be her territory for some time.

She then fell to a sit, hooking her feet under the lower step and leaning back to hang off the top bleacher.

A voice announced beside her, "That's rather _dangerous_, Crow."

She recognized that the two were now beside her, the ex-doctor having spoken.

"Danger's my _middle name_, puddin' pop," she announced, grinning with her arms dangling and stormy gaze viewing things from her upside-down state.

Upside-down, just like _she_ would turn _Gotham_ soon enough.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Batman is owned by DC Comics and whoever else owns it. I in no way claim it as my own; I'm just borrowing. Any OCs are mine and the plot is also mine.

* * *

**A/N:** As always, read and review!

Chelsie's story here is not _only_ supposed to be an explanation of her one secret phobia, but an attempt at adding a little humor. I just recognized that I don't add too much to lol about, so I thought, 'why not?'

I hope you like it.

* * *

**Poker Face**

_**by Syrenia**_

* * *

**Chapter Two - What Am I?**

* * *

Jonathan sat down beside the bird girl whose back hung off the top bleacher.

While gazing over her and contemplating her odd behavior, he finally took notice of a new scar on her neck.

Brushing back some of her brown locks, the ex-doctor suddenly saw the scar in full which read "Jkr" in a very _precise_ manner.

"How did you get this scar, Crow?" asked Jonathan, fingers pressing to the troublesome mark briefly.

"Take a wild _guess_, shug," retorted the bird, the Clown at her other side laughing.

The ex-doc's gaze lifted to the Joker, eyes full of disdain yet again.

"You _marked_ her?" he asked the Clown Prince incredulously.

"Not that it, ah, _help_-ed," answered the Joker with a shrug.

The Clown noticed the ex-doc's raised eyebrow and questioning countenance.

"She ha-_d_ some fun with my me-_n_," said the Joker in explanation.

Jonathan gave a resigned look, replying, "Yes, she _does_ tend to have a lot of "_fun_."

Crow scowled at their conversation, butting in promptly, "Let's not talk about Crow like she's not right _here_, mmkay, puddin' pops?"

"How is Chelsie, then?" inquired Jonathan of the bird girl's host.

"You can ask her for _yourself_, teddykins."

"_Wait_!" the doctor barked, but found it was too late as Crow blinked away with a grin.

Immediately, Chelsie opened her eyes, then gasped at her apparent position.

"_Ahh_! What am I _doing_? Why am I _like_ this?" Chelsie blurted out, eyes wide at her upside-down view from quite a height. "_CROW_!!"

Jonathan quickly helped prop her upright, pulling her into an embrace, her hands gripping his ill-fitting, pale blue top as she looked behind to where she'd just been dangling precariously.

"I _swear_, she's trying to _kill_ me!" the host exclaimed insistently, sighing deeply.

"You're afraid of _heights_?" asked the ex-doc with interest as he looked down at the woman in his arms.

"_So_, you've found my secret phobia. Congratulations," she snapped sarcastically, releasing her grip of his shirt and pulling free of his embrace, hands awkwardly shifting to her lap as she sat rigidly. "Yes, _I_, Chelsie the _Fearless_, have a fear of heights."

"You have a, ah, _fear_?" asked the Clown in disbelief.

Both villains exchanged a glance, neither having known the host had a phobia and both quite surprised by the fact; they had know Chelsie to be totally apathetic to almost _everything_, after all.

"Yes, I have a _phobia_," admitted the brunette again, hands fidgeting in her lap. "I fell from a water tower as a kid."

Jonathan's brow quirked as he questioned softly, "And why were you climbing a water tower?"

"It was a rescue mission," she answered quietly, fingers pulling at the knot in her top. "Some stupid boys put a kitten up at the top railing. No one cared enough to go up there, so _I_ went... and managed to fall at the top step."

"You're a weir-_d_ bird, kid," the Joker remarked, patting the top of her head with an amused look.

Jonathan tried not to smile, only managing to hide it by inquiring, "And what became of the kitten?"

"Well, I suddenly had this phobia, _but_... I went back up," Chelsie explained with a sigh, recalling her story vividly. "By then, it was night and too dark to see properly, so I slept up there with the kitten which I dubbed Mittens."

After another sigh, she went on to recount her tale, "The next day, I got the kitten and hurried all the way down by the highway... _And_... I sat the kitten on the _ground_..."

"_That_ was my great mistake," she lamented quietly.

"It ran away... into the street... and got hit by the wheel of a semi truck," she added, pursing her lips briefly. "That's when I realized life sucks... and then you _die_."

_Both_ men attempted not to, but they laughed, Chelsie looking at both in an appalled manner.

"It's not funny!" she insisted, glancing between them. "Even _kittens_ run away from me into highways!"

The two only laughed harder, although the doctor attempted to hide it, failing miserably.

With an indignant visage, Chelsie scooted down one seat, repeating the process without rising.

"I'm - getting - down - from - here," said Chelsie, getting out one word at a time as she went.

Eventually, she made it to the bottom, sitting safely near the ground and crossing her arms, inwardly _raging_ that the two villains thought her horrible, sad story was so _hilarious_.

'_What do you expect from __**villains**__, sweetheart?_' asked Crow from within. '_You gotta __**admit**__, it was __**kinda**__ funny..._'

'_You're all horrible, horrible people,_' Chelsie returned with an outward huff.

'_Where've you __**been**__, sweetheart; under a __**rock**__? We're __**villains**__!_' retorted the bird girl, cackling inwardly.

Chelsie bristled, glaring out at the rest of the courtyard.

Up at the top of the bleachers, the Clown began his descent, taking the steps two at a time until he was on the ground. Not to be left behind, Crane followed as well, taking a slower approach to his descent and eventually sitting beside Chelsie.

Chelsie ignored them both a beat, taking to glaring at the ground near her white sneakers.

Finally, she asked, "When do you one of you plan on escaping? I don't _appreciate_ this place very much."

The ex-doc looked away from her, contemplating the answer; the act was as simple as catching the proper guard _off_ guard and grabbing the cell keys.

The Clown suddenly laughed a bit, catching their attention.

"Getting ou-_t_ is easier than, ah... getting _in_," he announced, grinning. "All we nee-_d_, dollfac-_e_, are the, ah, cell keysss."

Chelsie looked down, thinking it over silently. If all they needed were the _keys_, _Crow_ could always distract a guard.

"_Crow_ could always get them," offered the host thoughtfully. "After all, she knows how to distract _men_ pretty well."

The Joker laughed, "True enough-_uh_, babydoll."

"_That's_ our plan; Crow distracts a guard and takes the keys?" asked the ex-doc, not really liking the sound of it so far.

"Why no-_t_?" the Clown Prince questioned the lanky man, his head tilted to the side like a puppy.

Jonathan sighed, then changed the subject, "As _ridiculous_ as the notion is, I believe the three of us would _benefit_ from the group therapy Miss Quinzel is undoubtedly planning."

"Benefit? _How_?" Chelsie questioned disbelievingly.

He looked to her with his icy blue gaze, answering her inquiry, "It's apparent that your Crow has yet to decide which of us she _favors_, Chels. At the very _least_, group therapy could help her and yourself both with coming to terms with whom you belong to."

Inside Chelsie, Crow scowled at the way he termed his thoughts; she did not belong to _either_ of them, regardless of whether she was created by one or marked by the other. Crow was _not_ a possession; the sooner one of them figured that out, the better. She was waiting for one to realize that you can't keep a hold of what you won't set free.

The moment one of them stopped pretending to be her owner and set her free to fly on her own would be the moment in which she knew she would make her choice.

Chelsie blinked, the bird girl making a reappearance, both villains noticing.

"_Well_, loves, there's only _one_ way me and my Chels will choose one of you," the blackbird announced, crossing her legs at the shins and dangling her arms off her knees.

Both men watched her with intrigue, the Clown wondering how to win her over and Crane slightly remembering a conversation she'd once had with Scarecrow.

"You gotta figure out that one thing we want before me and Chels decide to fly _solo_," she told them matter-of-factly, hands mimicking a bird in flight briefly as she grinned.

Jonathan sighed, "You're talking about that one thing you mentioned once _before_ - the one you said Scarecrow and I would never _find_."

"That would be _it_, sugarcube," replied the brunette with a grin. "There's just one thing I want - only _one_ thing that'll make me look _twice_ at a man. The moment I get _that_, I'll stay with that guy 'till the end of the end."

"_But_," she added, "to tell you what it is would just give it _away_, darlin's. You have to figure it out on your own or it won't be _sincere_."

"At least give me some kind of _clue_, Crow," prompted the ex-doc exasperatedly.

"A clue. A clue," she muttered in thought, then snapped her fingers. "Here's your _clue_, Doc: What am I?"

Jonathan blinked, making a statement that came out as more of a question, "You're a woman?"

"_Well_, besides _that_ obvious information, what am I?" she pressed again.

He looked away, gazing off at nothing.

Meanwhile, the Clown watched her with a tilted head before abruptly announcing, "You're a bir-_d_."

Crow turned her gaze up to the Joker, replying, "Bingo. And _that's_ the clue."

"The clue is you're a _bird_?" Jonathan asked incredulously.

* * *

The ex-doc did _not_ like mind games when they were being played on _him_.

'_So __**that's**__ our wonderful clue; she's a __**bird**__?_' asked the Scarecrow inwardly, aggravated at the game presented to them.

'_I suppose this poses the question of what a __**bird**__ would want,_' suggested Jonathan to his counterpart.

'_Birds just want some __**birdseed**__,_' retorted the Scarecrow bitingly. '_How are we supposed to think like __**her**__? She's __**unique**__!_'

Jonathan inwardly sneered, '_Are you insinuating that our blackbird is __**smarter**__ than the two of us?_'

* * *

Meanwhile, the Clown grinned; he _loved_ a good guessing game. And better _yet_, the prize was his bird girl's love and loyalty.

_Surely_ he could figure it out before the _ex-doc_ ever did.

'_Think like a bird. Like a bird,_' the Clown's barely coherent thoughts ran. '_Birdseed. Sky. Fly. Nest._'

He frowned; none of that really gave him anything to go on. She obviously didn't want birdseed or a nest. What could the _sky_ mean? Or maybe the _real_ clue had to do with flying?

He reasoned that he _might_ just have to think this over carefully.

* * *

Crow grinned to herself, looking from one preoccupied villain to the next, both with thoughtful countenances and glazed eyes.

Neither of them would _ever_ figure it out by that simple little clue, _right_?

_No way_.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Batman is owned by DC Comics and whoever else owns it. I in no way claim it as my own; I'm just borrowing. Any OCs are mine and the plot is also mine.

* * *

**A/N:** R&R whether you love or hate it.

The delay was due to an inner debate about the last chapter's vague clue. I decided it was too vague. That led to the choice to have our bird girl give another clue and then another for good measure in this chapter. I choose the use of lyrics because the clues were related to song, tying the clue together pretty well.

The lyrics are from Nightwish's _Know Why The Nightingale Sings_. I in no way claim them as my own.

Don't worry; she won't constantly be dropping clues. That would be annoying.

If you've forgotten - as the answer was _way_ back in the _first_ fic - Crow and Chelsie want nothing more than to be set free. Only _that_ act can win her little birdy-wirdy heart.

* * *

**Poker Face**

_**by Syrenia**_

* * *

**Chapter Three - Know Why She Sings**

* * *

After "outside time" had finished, the inmates were escorted back to their cells, Crow now sitting on her horrible little bed.

Once the two villains had come out of their thoughts earlier, all three had agreed to wait a while before busting out of Arkham. This was, _mainly_, to give the pair of villainous boys time to contemplate her clue to the fullest, and Crow inwardly, without _telling_ them, decided she would give them a long time to think it over.

Crow had time to _spare_, so she could wait for one of the two to find an answer to her riddle of sorts. She could wait a few months _tops_, and then she would fly, fly away when neither of them figured out her one thing.

She really expected that within a few month's time, she'd be flying free in Gotham, having gone on a solo flight.

Blinking, Crow receded into Chelsie's mind, deciding to give her counterpart some time in the light.

Thirty minutes later, it was lunch time.

* * *

Walking into the cafeteria, Chelsie looked around the huge room as she fell into the lunch line.

She was certain whatever they fed the patients would be most horrible, such confirmed when she managed to get a bowlful of awful, grey goop.

Walking off, she looked around for the two villains, soon seeing the Joker standing up and waving her over from the very last bench.

Curiously, no other patients would sit by the two, the others likely afraid of such superior nutters.

With a sigh, the host headed in his direction, Jonathan on the opposite side of the bench.

Opting to sit by the better _smelling_ of the two today, she sat by Jonathan.

"_Chelsie_?" the ex-doc asked, wondering why she was out.

She looked over to him, surprised, "How did you know?"

He smiled slightly, answering, "The look in your eyes is different from your counterpart."

The Joker, now seated on his side, questioned, "Why-_uh_ are you ou-_t_ and abou-_t_, Chels?"

"Crow said I could have some time in the light," she said, suddenly frowning. "I think she wanted me to taste... _this_."

At the last word, she poked at her bowl of what was apparently _gruel_.

The Clown laughed, "She _is_ tryin-_g_ to kill ya, kiddo."

Jonathan chuckled, having to agree with the sentiment.

"_Ehh_... I know we're just lowly nutters," began the host, staring at a spoonful of gruel, "but don't they have some kind of _health code_? Did they not learn anything from the musical _Oliver!_?"

"Does that mean you're going to ask for more?" quipped the ex-doc, the Clown consequently giggling.

Chelsie laughed, "I don't _think_ so."

"Well-_uh_, you'd better hold your nos-_e_ and _down_ it, dollfac-_e_," advised the Clown after swallowing a mouthful of his own, "_other_-wise, they'll feed you themselvesss."

She shivered, then took a bite of the gruel, grimacing and looking queasy as she swayed a bit, the two watching.

Putting down her spoon, the host covered her mouth, struggling with keeping the horrible concoction down.

Jonathan gazed down to her bowl, "They gave you quite a bit, possibly because you look _frail_."

Both villains did not hesitate, digging their spoons into her hefty share and taking about half of it between them, a gesture for which she was grateful.

Hand falling from her mouth, Chelsie sighed, having kept the horrid food down by no small miracle.

Looking between the two men, she apologized, "S-Sorry..."

Eyes shifting back to the food, she tried the Joker's earlier suggestion, holding her nose and shoveling in the gruel.

Thankfully, the method _worked_ and she eventually downed her serving entirely, releasing her nose.

"Good job-_uh_," said the Joker approvingly.

Most patients, upon their first attempt to eat their new meal, would proceed to barf it back up promptly because it was _that_ god-awful.

Jonathan looked over to her, "You'll get used to it within a few week's time."

Chelsie just sighed, resigned to the fact that her stay would _indeed_ be that long.

* * *

Lunch had went by comfortably for the most part, Chelsie/Crow once again in her cell, Crow now out.

During lunch, she'd actually learned that Arkham's schedule had recently been revised, Jonathan explaining that those in charge felt there were wasted hours in the previous schedule.

So, that meant that the cell doors weren't the _only_ things to have been changed in Arkham recently.

It made her curious about the new management.

* * *

An hour later, everyone was greeted by a guard at their door.

"Sos, Miss Crow, you wanna go to the courtyard or the rec. room?" asked the guard at Crow's door, waiting for a reply.

Unbeknownst to _her_, the Clown and ex-doc down the hall listened in carefully.

"Choices, choices," she said with a smirk. "Rec. room it _is_."

Once out of her cell, her escorting guard took her down the row, leading through the building to the rec. room.

* * *

Now inside the rec. room, Crow walked over to the long, barred window at the back of the room to the left that looked out upon the Narrows.

Consequently, she began to softly hum her precious song, a tune that gave her some sort of comfort in a place where comfort was certainly lacking.

Eventually, however, she was interrupted.

"_Crow_?" asked a voice from behind, Crow turning around to find Jonathan.

Her eyes trailed off, finding the Clown behind him, stormy gaze then flitting back to the ex-doc.

"_Yeah_, shug?" she asked, turning back around to gaze out at the Narrows.

"Could you give me a second clue?" Crane inquired hopefully. "After all, no one thinks _quite_ like you or your host."

Crow laughed, replying, "True _enough_, teddykins. We _are_ unique... And I suppose that _maybe_ I could give you a second clue."

Both the Clown and ex-doctor looked thoroughly pleased with her decision.

Crow grinned, turning to face her two favorite villains, then suddenly began humming a new tune.

Suddenly, she sang one lyric, "Know why the nightingale sings is the answer to everything."

Speaking normally, she announced, "And _that's_ your new clue, my lovelies!"

Giggling, she took off across the room and situated herself in a pace in an open area.

Both men watched her take off and stood in thought before Jonathan spoke up defeatedly, "I believe that was even more vague than the _first_."

The Clown near his side cackled and inwardly agreed.

Suddenly, Crow managed a half cartwheel, paused to rest on both hands before she slowly lifted the other and brought it behind her back. She then closed her blue-grey eyes with a deep, relaxing breath.

Curiously, the Clown wandered over, inquiring, "What, ah... wha-_t_ are you doing?"

"Meditation," she replied concisely and said nothing more.

Jonathan wandered over then, commenting, "That isn't the _normal_ position for meditation."

"No, it isn't," Crow agreed, then offered an explanation. "Mine is dubbed "Kunoichi Meisou no jutsu," created and termed by a fanfiction writer that Chels knew way back when. It translates _roughly_ as--"

The Clown interrupted, translating, "'Ar-_t_ of Femal-_e_ Ninja Med-i-_ta_-tion' or, ah... 'Femal-_e_ Ninja Med-i-_ta_-tion Techniqu-_e_'."

Resigned to the fact that Crow obviously wanted alone time, the ex-doctor stalked off, heading to the window where she'd once stood.

Meanwhile, the Joker curiously sat down Indian-style by his bird girl and attempted meditation as well, a sight so very strange to anyone paying attention. Occasionally, however, one russet-colored eye would open and observe the blackbird before shutting once more.

Jonathan turned from the window in time to watch the spectacle as he leaned against the wall by the barred glass, his blue eyes making sure the Clown kept his hands to himself.

* * *

'_Why aren't we clawing at that Clown's __**neck**__?_' demanded the Scarecrow within Jonathan's mind, his tone agitated. '_We should kill him for trying to take what's rightfully __**ours**__, doctor._'

Jonathan replied calmly, '_I doubt our Crow or Chelsie would __**forgive**__ us if we were to kill the Joker. Otherwise, I would be __**more**__ than happy to dispose of him __**myself**__._'

'_Then what of her new clue?_' questioned Scarecrow, annoyed ever more by her vague, strange ways of thinking.

'_**Obviously**__, our Crow is enamored with __**birds**__,_' noted the doctor. '_But what would be special about the nightingale in __**particular**__? I know that nightingales are named thus as they frequently sing at night as well as in the day. The name means 'night songstress,' I believe. And it is, in fact, the __**male**__ which sings at night._'

Scarecrow thought this information over a moment before commenting, '_Is the term 'nightingale' a parallel of __**ourselves**__? We mainly conduct our "business" at night._'

'_It __**sounds**__ plausible enough,_' agreed the ex-doctor. '_And the hidden question in the lyric seems to be 'know why the nightingale sings?' even as it is made an __**answer**__ in the lyric. So why does the nightingale sing? The male nightingale sings at night to protect its territory and to attract a __**female**__._'

'_I think the male nightingale part is just leading us __**astray**__, doctor,_' Scarecrow returned thoughtfully. '_Perhaps we're supposed to think of __**Crow**__ in relation to the nightingale, and she's obviously a __**female**__. Why does the __**female**__ nightingale sing?_'

* * *

The Clown, with his eyes shut and one popping open to observe his bird girl at intervals, began to meditate on Crow's newest clue.

Obviously, the woman was obsessed with birds.

'_Think like a bird. Like a nightingale,_' his jumbled thoughts managed to string together something slightly cohesive. '_Birds sing. Nightingale sings. Male nightingale sings at night. Nighttime. Nighttime._'

His thoughts carried on in much the same manner until he came to the conclusion that her clue had to do with singing. Obviously, the question in her lyric was also an _answer_.

The question was 'know why the nightingale sings?' and therefore would have to have an answer.

'_Male nightingale sings at night,_' his thoughts reaffirmed his earlier conclusion before adding a reason as to _why_ the male nightingale would sing at night. '_Attract a mate. Protect territory. Answer to everything._'

But that was a dead end, he realized, so he began to think of the nightingale in relation to his bird girl. What did the little blackbird woman have in common with a _nightingale_?

* * *

Jonathan replied to Scarecrow, '_I don't know. Perhaps the first clue attaches to the __**second**__. We reasoned earlier that the first clue had to do with what a bird could __**want**__. I concluded that the first clue must've been related to __**flight**__ because she always mentions "flying solo," and this second clue obviously revolves around __**song**__._'

'_**Argh**__! This is __**maddening**__!_' complained the ex-doctor's counterpart. '_We should be intelligent enough to __**understand**__ this, but we can't think like __**her**__!_'

'_And that __**is**__ the __**key**__ to all of this, isn't it - to think like __**her**__?_' questioned Crane in thought as his eyes still watched Crow. '_Perhaps the clues aren't meant as __**literally**__ as we've taken them. Perhaps, in her __**unique**__ way, the clues __**relate**__ to her. __**She**__ is a bird and __**she**__ sings. As a bird, we have to deduce upon what she __**wants**__. And we __**also**__ have to find a reason as to why she __**sings**__ because, after all, she's constantly humming her __**song**__ now._'

Scarecrow grinned inwardly; the ex-doctor might've been headed in the right direction.

* * *

Pushing his back off the wall, Crane walked over to Crow.

"Crow," he spoke, looking down at the bird girl.

"Hm... _Yes_?" Crow inquired.

"I have a vague _idea_ of where your clues are directed now," began the ex-doctor, "but you must admit that they are _both_ maddeningly unhelpful."

The Joker opened his eyes, watching the blackbird.

The brunette grinned, replying to Jonathan's remarks, "_Gee_, teddykins, I thought an ex-shrink with _your_ kind of education could crack my code, no problem... I'm just a li'l ol' _bird_ girl; how am _I_ so hard to figure out?"

The Clown laughed, eyes shifting up to the ex-doctor.

Jonathan flushed and Scarecrow inwardly felt uncomfortable; did she believe they weren't _intelligent_ enough? She _did_ seem to be insinuating disappointment in their intellectual capacities.

"Oh, well. If a li'l ol' bird girl's clues are just _so_ tough for a well-read sorta guy like _you_, I guess I'll simply _have_ to give you another," she reasoned with a sigh of disapproval.

Crow then sang another lyric, "Migrating with the geese, my soul has finally found peace. Doesn't matter that man has no wings as long as I hear the nightingale sing..."

Finished, she waited a beat before commenting, "That's a pretty big _hint_, sugar puffs. It's almost like I've given it _away_... And don't expect any more clues for a long while to come. You've got _enough_ to ponder on for _now_."

Frowning at yet _another_ infuriating clue, Crane simply sat beside Crow as she still balanced firmly on one hand.

Both the Joker and Jonathan/Scarecrow fell into silent contemplation thereafter.


End file.
